The account of the preparation of the lithograph, and of the stone’s untimely fate, is fully set forth on pages 49 and 50 of the _Antiquities_. It is too long to quote in this place, but is well worth looking up by those who are interested in the history of this method. It is sufficient for our purpose to say that after three hundred impressions had been taken off, the stone was laid by for the night without care having been taken to keep it properly moist. The result was that {152} on the application of the ink balls in the morning they proved too tenacious, and on their removal were found to have torn up portions of the drawing from the stone. Consequently we have it that impressions of this, one of the first English lithographs, are exceedingly scarce, and are only to be found in the first three hundred copies of the book issued. This fact connotes the further result that the impressions of the etchings throughout the book in their earliest states are to be found in the copies containing the lithograph. Before quitting this subject it should be stated that in “collating” this book we must bear in mind a very pretty quarrel which took place between the artist and J. S. Hawkins, who was largely responsible for the letterpress. As has been pointed out, the first 300 copies contained the “stone-plate.” But in only a very few copies is to be found the suppressed title-page bearing the name of John Sidney Hawkins, and the dedication to George III., signed “The Author.” These few copies contain the very earliest impressions of the plates. In the later copies the dedication is signed “John Thomas Smith,” and bound up {153} in most of these is found a “Vindication” by J. T. Smith in answer to “A Correct Statement and Vindication of the conduct of John Sidney Hawkins, Esq., F.A.S., towards Mr. John Thomas Smith, drawn up and published by Mr. Hawkins himself.” Lond. 1807, 8vo, p. 87. J. T. Smith’s answer was further replied to in another pamphlet by Hawkins dated 1808. We will now turn from this specimen of lithography to a very remarkable example of the sister art of wood-engraving. (_Vide_ Frontispiece.) In the April number 1896 of _Good Words_, I dealt with some bibliographical curiosities, one of which was the remarkable suppressed title-page in my possession here reproduced. My object on that occasion was to verify the fact of which I felt practically certain, that the book for which it was prepared had never come into being, and that therefore we had the curious anomaly of an elaborately engraved title-page wanting a book. Books wanting their engraved title-page are unfortunately common enough, owing to the barbarism of certain ruthless collectors. But a title-page not only wanting a book, but which {154} never had one, was as extraordinary as the grin of the Cheshire Cat in _Alice in Wonderland_, which was left behind after its author had disappeared.